Revelation
by Akasha87
Summary: i'm basically introducing 'new' characters. but i was inspired by tolkien. i have to add more chapters cos this is just one short chapter and i wanna know if it builds up enough suspense.


Revelation  
  
Part1  
  
It's always raining in my head Forget all the things I should have said So I speak to you in riddles Cos my words get in my way  
  
It was raining that night, when Unaar first saw the ghosts of the people who haunted her dreams. They had failed. Thunder rattled the window panes and rain made a pattering sound on the cool glass. Inside, Unaar was white and shaking, because she couldn't believe her eyes. She held her head and screamed in desperation. They were her ancestors. But outside the sky wept relentlessly; rain fell on cool earth. The sky was crimson and empty. The howling sounds made by the wind were bound to convince a passerby that the shadows were already upon Unaar. But they were not. She was a chosen one. And at that time, the non-existent passerby wouldn't have stopped to listen. It was jungle drive, nobody in their right minds would stop to listen to sounds that came from a haunted house. There had been unexplained, mysterious deaths in the family that once inhabited the house. People had moved away from the place around it. As time crept by, wild trees and thorny bushes grew where empty people had once walked. Everyday, everyday the ghosts would wait for signs from the living. They would watch the sun rise. they would watch it sink; their eyes would rove over the paths they'd once wandered, searching, always searching for the living because they needed a way out of their damnation. Then on a Sunday morning, their salvation came, right out of the wilderness itself, walking on two feet; flesh and blood. She was angry. She'd run away from home; but she didn't know. They knew. From the moment their pale eyes fell on her, they knew she would fail them again, like all the people before her. She sat down on the steps outside the house. She held her knees up to her chin and wept, for a long, tiring time. When night came she opened the door into the house. She curled up beneath a window. Her head was swimming with all the crying now and she was tired because she'd had a long walk. she fell asleep quickly.  
  
There is a forest on both sides. She is walking down jungle drive, happy and elated. The moon peeps through the curtain of cloud. She sighs. She must not misuse the powers. But it is difficult. She walks on. She's hardly sixteen and she doesn't know where her life is going. But why are all the lights out in the mansion? And now they're on again. what's going on? She tiptoes closer. armed men? They look like pirates. She hides herself behind a bush. She squints to look at the man closer to the bush. She studies him carefully, taking down each detail, as if she's a painter making his portrait. She uses the powers. 'Yes, finished now,' says a small voice inside her head. She gets to her feet and adjusts the hat so that it covers her face. These bandits will kill her if they find out that she isn't one of them. But the disguise is already working. The men salute her. Why? The moment she enters the mansion, the lights go out again. It's dark. Are these people thinking she's the head bandit? Is that why they gave her a thumbs-up sign when she walked past them? But if they are thinking that, she can get them out of her mansion. Odd noises come from the neighboring room. She opens the door to it: a bandit on the floor another bandit holding him down with one hand, his other hand holding a dagger right above the second bandit's throat. 'Wait!' she yells. Both men look up. 'Don't kill him!' The man with the dagger narrows his eyes, 'Why?' Her brain is frantically working. She has to save a life 'It's an order!' The man stops, stares out of the window for a few seconds, then he speaks in a hoarse voice, 'Who are you?' She panics, what now? The disguise's blown! The man grins like a hungry wolf. He brings his dagger down, slowly towards the throat of the second man. 'I command you to stop!' The man with the dagger looks up again. White light shoots out of her hands. 'What in the name of the devil.' the bandit whispers to himself. 'In the name of the Devil!' she wails. The man brings the dagger down; it slits the other bandit's stomach. 'Stop!' she yells. But she isn't shouting at the murderer anymore, she's shouting at death. 'Stop!' And then, life and death balance themselves out. The dagger goes in. and out. The murderer jumps back. But the dagger moves on its own. In and out. in and out. living then dead.  
  
Unaar woke up with a start. It was raining outside. She looked out of the window. She was tired of this haunting nightmare. But this window she had slept beneath; why did it look so oddly familiar? Where was she? Cold dread filled her. She turned around, ready for flight out of this mansion. But then she saw the ghosts.  
  
Part2  
  
It's just lately I've been feeling Like I don't belong Like the ground's not mine to walk upon So please forgive what I have done No you can't stay mad at the setting sun.  
  
Ananas woke up in cold sweat. Death. Blood soaked pleasures. His mind was struggling to keep up with the sudden change in surroundings. He breathed in relief. It was just a bad dream. But it left him shaken and hollow. He felt like he'd fallen a long way through empty air. He took a long breath again. Just to calm his wild, racing heart. Dream? He never had any, or even if he did he couldn't remember them. But yes, he'd killed someone. And he'd enjoyed it. Because the warm rush of blood, the slicing of flesh had filled him with pure ecstasy. Thrill. He winced in the semi-darkness. No! He sat up. His head ached. It was always like this when he fell asleep in the afternoon. He got up wearily. He felt his wet shirt sticking to him. Wet? But why... he lowered his head to look. Blood. How? And for a horrible moment he thought he was still dreaming. He looked around slowly, desperately trying to control his throbbing heart. Yes, everything made perfect sense. The room was absolutely normal. That meant he wasn't dreaming. Couldn't be. everything was so vivid. But how? Was somebody playing a hideous joke on him? No, it's not April fool's yet. He cackled dryly, it wasn't a proper laugh. He was just desperate to show himself that this wet stain on his shirt wasn't bothering him. But the house was so quite. Only his insane cackle echoing off the walls and right into his ears again. It made his head ache. Where was Aunt Gola? He opened the door. Orange light was flooding the corridor; that meant it was evening. He'd been sleeping for a long time. Why were all the lights out? He walked down the stairs. Something wasn't right. He went into the living room. Something wasn't right. The curtains were drawn. Something wasn't right. He switched the lights on. Ancient Aunt Gola was lying dead right at his feet, a knife stuck in her stomach.  
  
Part3  
  
Let the meanings slip away Lost my faith in another day Self-depreciation seems okay I never thought I'd make it anyway.  
  
When Keala saw the sun sink, she knew something was terribly wrong. The crimson sky, the howling wind: they were sure signs of death. She spent ages watching the sun sink; ages listening to the wail of the winds. Somewhere, something was not right. Keala knew that. She knew it before her mother answered the phone below, she knew it before relatives and the police gathered around Aunt Gola's house, she knew it before Nariel came up and told her. she knew it before any of them had: that Ancient Aunt Gola was dead. Her mother cried, Nariel cried, even her father cried. they filled their tiny phials up to the brim. But Keala had to fill hers with water instead because she just couldn't cry. It had always been like that, even when she was a child; crying had never been easy. It was night when the police took the body away. The clouds in the sky promised rain. And it came. It was cold when she stood outside Aunt Golas with the rest of her crying relatives and the weeping sky. It felt awkward. Nearly everybody was crying. or at least had shed a tear or two. Was it so wrong not to cry for the dead? But then Ananas was wailing like mad but. he'd been living with Aunt Gola; his parents were dead. She wanted to run away from this place. It was so hard to accept the fact that people suffered like this. No, it just wasn't acceptable. She frowned, she scowled but no matter how hard she tried to show the pain she felt she just couldn't cry. She looked at her Mother and some other female relatives straining to keep Ananas back from the dead body. There was blood on his front already. The police sirens started ringing when they took the body away. She never saw the body. Aunt Gola had been murdered. And Ananas was the only witness. But for now, Ananas only wept. And then there was confusion, Unaar was missing. Unaars mother, Aunt Seab called Keala to her. Aunt Seab asked her if she'd seen Unaar anywhere. Keala had not, so Aunt Seab sent her to get Unaar from her place. Aunt Seabs was not far away and Keala was almost glad to get away from this place. She ran all the way. Feeling desperate to help anyone, someone in someway. She searched the house frantically, yelling for Unaar. But no one answered. Maybe she was someplace else. She found Unaars phone diary. She called everywhere. She couldn't find Unaar. She ran back to Aunt Golas. Unaar was missing. 


End file.
